We didn’t speak.
There was nothing to say.
84.
now
I take the stairs two at a time.
I reach the stairwell of the first floor. Up to the next, or down to the basement? Where have they gone? I pause and listen, even though my pounding heart screams at me togo, go, go!
Thump. Thump. Thumpthumpthump.
The sound is coming from below.
I race down the stairs.
Th-thump, th-thump, th-thump thump.
Louder and louder the closer I come.
What is it?
Who is it?
I take a deep breath, sling Yolo in his backpack higher on my back.
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
A hallway, at the bottom of the stairs.
A door, slightly ajar.
The room is dim, lit by rows of flickering fluorescent lights. The corners are dark, and I play my phone light over them. Cobwebs, what looks like a dead mouse, a stiff straw broom, a bottle of an electric green cleaning liquid. That’s all.
Except for several washing machines and dryers in the middle of the back wall.
That’s where the sound is coming from. One of the dryers.
Something’s inside.
I cross the room, taking a look back over my shoulder. I don’t want to get trapped in here.
I’m also not sure I want to know what’s inside the dryer.
“Keep your eyes on the door, Yolo,” I say. “Don’t let anyone shut it on us.” And then I jerk open the door of the dryer and the sound comes to a stop. Breathing fast, I look inside, my stomach churning.
A pair of running shoes.
They’re mine.
85.
once
Once, Sam and I went to the jump when it was dark.
People liked to go at night, even though it was more dangerous then. We all knew the warnings.
